


to the scars on your fists

by amaanogawa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Haikyuu Fighter, KuroDai Weekend 2017, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:12:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaanogawa/pseuds/amaanogawa
Summary: "Sawamura has power, has foundation, but Kuroo’s strength lies in his speed and flexibility. And just as Sawamura has countless hours of practice marring the skin on his fists, Kuroo has the same, as do the rest of the fighters here today, all for the same goal.Victory. Nothing but that."Kurodai Weekend #2, Day 1| December 8: Ennoshita Productions ( Haikyuu Fighter |Final Haikyuu Quest)





	to the scars on your fists

Kuroo lifts his hands above his head, intertwining them and stretches, bends backwards and then forwards, letting his hands fall until his palms touch the floor. He’s feeling good today- his senses are heightened, his reflexes sharp. Sucking in a deep breath, his eyelids flutter shut as he centers himself. All he has to do is keep his concentration and today’s fight is his.

In terms of raw strength, his opponent has him beat. Sawamura Daichi, a fighter famous for his sturdiness and dedication to the basics. His style isn’t flashy like that of the newly debuted rookie pair that has caught recognition all across the world, nor is he gifted with a superior physique like Shiratorizawa’s Ushijima. It’s clear to any veteran fighter that Sawamura’s strength is born from that of simplicity. It has been beaten into his body, hour after hour of grueling training, engrained from the blood, sweat and tears shed for the sole purpose of victory. The first time Kuroo watched Sawamura fight, the sureness in his movements was captivating. It wasn’t so much confidence, but trust- trust in the amount of effort he put in, tirelessly, faithfully, without fail. It sent a sort of quiet exhilaration through Kuroo’s bones that he doesn’t quite understand himself.

Sawamura has power, has foundation, but Kuroo’s strength lies in his speed and flexibility. And just as Sawamura has countless hours of practice marring the skin on his fists, Kuroo has the same, as do the rest of the fighters here today, all for the same goal.

Victory. Nothing but that.

He wraps his fists tightly with bandages, double knots the laces on his boots. Cracks each knuckle and looks up. Sucks another deep breath through his teeth.

“On this side, known for his soundless movements and lightning fast attacks, Nekoma’s own Black Cat!”

Cheers erupt from every direction as Kuroo steps out into the fighting ring, but they fall deaf upon his ears. He keeps his sights set steadily on the entrance across from him.

“And opposite to him, the fighter that has finally brought Karasuno back to light, the Flightless Crow!”

As Sawamura steps out of the shadows, Kuroo can’t help but break into a smile. Sawamura’s bloodlust is suffocating, so much so that it silences the audience, and each of his footsteps carries so much weight that Kuroo is unwillingly pulled towards him until they meet at the center of the ring.

“Fighters, the ceremonial handshake!”

Kuroo extends a hand, where it is met with a grip so tight that his bones creak. Sawamura’s smile is syrupy sweet, artificially so, which brings a laugh to the back of Kuroo’s throat.

“A pleasure to be sharing the ring with you, Crow-san.” Kuroo says, mimicking the smile on Sawamura’s face.

“No, no. The pleasure is all mine.” Sawamura’s grip tightens infinitesimally. “Let’s have a good fight.”

The two part, each taking their places on their respective sides of the ring. Kuroo closes his eyes, focuses on his breath, on the blood running through his veins. From the fights that Kuroo has studied, Sawamura is the type to fall back and take a defensive stance rather than make the first move.

“Ready, and. **Fight**!”

Luckily for him, Kuroo is just the opposite.

In a flash, Kuroo is behind him, swinging the side of his hand down on the back of Sawamura’s neck. It’s a basic move, but it will successfully take down more than a couple of newbie fighters who lack the reflexes to respond in time. Though, Kuroo knows better than to expect Sawamura to go down with such an easy attack. Sawamura parries with ease, wrapping his right hand around Kuroo’s wrist, yanking down with all his might and throwing a solid punch with his other fist. Kuroo just barely manages to block, taken off balance, but a spike of pain shoots through his defensive arm as he pushes himself into a handstand and swings a kick at Sawamura’s face. Sawamura dodges in a fluid movement before Kuroo jumps away, shaking out his throbbing arm.

“My, my, wasn’t that a little reckless, Cat-san?” Sawamura grins, crouching into a defensive stance. “You didn’t really think I’d go down so easily, did you?”

“Well, Crow-san, it never hurts to test the waters before jumping in, now does it?” Kuroo steps to the side, flashing a toothy smirk before ducking low to swing a leg at Sawamura’s feet. Sawamura is good at assessing the situation and is hardly fazed as he flips onto a hand to avoid Kuroo’s sweep, but his options are limited while he’s switching positions, which is the exact moment that Kuroo propels his knee at Sawamura’s face. He manages to block, catching Kuroo’s knee with his other hand, but the blow sends him skidding across the ring before he can right himself and hop onto his feet.

The pair share a grin as they launch themselves at each other, meeting again and again. Sawamura has no openings; wherever Kuroo aims, Sawamura is there to block and return the favour twice over. It’s exhilarating, truly, to meet a foe who contrasts himself so well. Sawamura is sturdy where Kuroo is lean, solid where Kuroo is flexible, never swaying from his path. He is both the immovable object and the unstoppable force all at once, plain to the eye but majestic to behold and Kuroo is left breathless in his wake.

Twenty minutes later Sawamura is sans a tooth and Kuroo is fairly sure a few of his ribs have seen better days. It’s the most evenly matched fight that Kuroo has ever fought. They’re both breathing heavily, but by nature Sawamura has more stamina than he does and Kuroo knows that he has to end the fight soon or else his chances at victory will be slim. He didn’t expect this- this feeling of connection between him and Sawamura. Fighting with him is like having a conversation, one that is riveting and exciting and yet nostalgic all at once.

Kuroo briefly wonders if Sawamura feels the same way.

In the end it comes down to the slightest of errors- Kuroo falters for a fraction of a second, the blow to his arm from the beginning of the fight slowing down his movement almost imperceptibly to the untrained eye. But Sawamura finds his chance immediately, seizing Kuroo’s arm with the crook of his knee and throwing his elbow down against the junction of Kuroo’s neck and it’s all over.

\---

When he wakes, Sawamura is there by his bedside wringing out a cold washcloth. Blearily, he rubs his eyes and props himself up on an elbow, wincing at the throb of pain shooting up from his neck to the back of his eyelids. He lets out a pained groan despite himself. Wordlessly, Sawamura hands him a couple of painkillers, which Kuroo accepts after a moment of hesitation.

“What is this? Pity for your fallen foe?” Kuroo asks, voice hoarse. “Damn, Sawamura. You sure did a number on my head. Ever heard of holding back?”

Sawamura chuckles, helping Kuroo into a sitting position. “Not in the fighting ring, no. I didn’t stay out of pity, either. I just…it’s been awhile since I had such a good match so I wanted to get to know you better.”

“So you fell for my devilishly good looks on the battlefield, huh?” Kuroo grins, waggling his eyebrows. “Don’t be embarrassed, it happens often.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Laughing, Kuroo just manages to latch onto Sawamura’s wrist before he was out of reach, very nearly toppling out of the bed in doing so. “Wait, I’m sorry, I was just joking. I wanted to talk to you too, okay?”

The pain in Kuroo’s ribs flares up from the sudden movement, which he tries to hide with as charming a smile as he can muster. Sawamura turns, eyes him with a crook in his brow before taking a seat in the lone wooden chair beside Kuroo’s bed.

“I’ll stay, so stop moving around so much. The doctor says you have 2 fractured ribs and a concussion.”

“I mean, you have no right to be saying that when you’re the one who injured me.”

“Say that to my missing tooth.”

Through their playful banter, Kuroo finds it harder and harder to ignore the dimple in one cheek that appears with Sawamura laughs, or the way he traces his bottom lip with his thumb when he’s deep in thought. From that, to the image of Sawamura in the fighting ring, the stability in his legs rooted deep into the earth, power ever flowing to the tips of his fingers, Kuroo knows.

In the ring they may be evenly matched, but outside of it, Kuroo doesn’t stand a chance.

**Author's Note:**

> /slaps a bunch of kuroo's gross romantic thoughts about daichi on a word doc and calls it a fic
> 
>  
> 
> [my tumblr](http://www.amaanogawa.tumblr.com)


End file.
